


Your Body

by kkscatnip (autohaptic)



Series: Bonds That Tie [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Clothed Sex, Extremely Underage, First Kiss, Frottage, Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, Premature Ejaculation, Resolved Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Sparring, Wall Sex, soulbond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 16:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autohaptic/pseuds/kkscatnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>All I wanna do<br/>is love your body</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Body

Jason knows that the attack is coming. He remembers the feeling from the last time, that combination that he couldn't identify until Bruce was already on him, berating him for not being ready.

And for the record it's not Jason's fault that Bruce isn't in tune with the bond enough to be struck by the shifts in Jason's moods the way Jason spends so much goddamn time figuring out the shifts in Bruce's moods.

But, point is, he knows that it's going to happen that day as soon as Bruce comes down the stairs, back from Wayne Enterprises. The only question is when, so Jason waits until he feels the emotion building and just fucking goes for it. If he's wrong, well, Bruce can berate him for that, but Jason's not going to be caught flat-footed again. 

Instructions from other spars, from the planned ones, float through Jason's mind. _Never stop paying attention._

Bruce isn't in tune enough with the bond, with Jason, to realize it until Jason's already untying Bruce's shoes. He reacts fast, almost unthinkingly, and damn, a knee to the face fucking hurts, but Jason's younger and has the element of surprise. 

_Never underestimate the power of unpredictability._

And he can't stop grinning about that fact, so he dances away and tries to focus on things that aren't pain as he presses one hand over his eye.

_Touching it won't make it hurt less._

Jason doesn't give anywhere near as good as he gets, and all through the spar, he hears the instruction that Bruce doesn't give this time: _Take the hit higher, if you can._ It doesn't hurt as much to get punched in the chest as it does to get punched in the kidneys. 

_Turn your disadvantages into advantages._ Jason ducks down low, so Bruce has no option but to crouch to get to him, and it's awkward enough that Jason scores a few hits. 

He's not really surprised that Bruce doesn't trip on his laces, not once, but whatever, it would be a good move on someone who isn't Bruce.

Sparring like this feels like Bruce is being slow, is playing, but it feels good because there's approval coming over through the bond and the longer things go on, the stronger it gets. Jason lets that feeling buoy him when he starts to tire and finds the energy for one last hurrah. 

He slips one hand into his pocket and pulls out the chalk powder, then slides between Bruce's legs on his side, grabbing Bruce's laces with one hand and spreading the chalk with the other. Jason yanks on Bruce's laces, squatting behind Bruce, ready to move when Bruce steps back, slips in the chalk, and goes down. 

The idea that Jason may have gotten one over on Bruce is like a fucking drug, heady, powerful. But Jason doesn't just let Bruce lay there; he kneels on Bruce's chest, one knee on Bruce's throat with just a little pressure. Enough to be a threat, but not cause even temporary damage. 

"Give," he growls, hands curled into fists, ready to pummel Bruce's face while he chokes him.

Jason feels Bruce's abs tensing under his shins and the next thing he knows, he's got Bruce's legs around his neck and he's being flipped off. Because it’s Bruce, Jason thinks as he yelps, rolls on his shoulder and is up on his feet directly after, turning to face Bruce, who's also on his feet again.

_Keep going. Never stop._

There's only one thing Jason can do. He brings his fists up, bends his knees a little, and lets his body be loose enough that he won't be too tense to fight.

Across the bond, Jason hears an echo, a whisper: _Robin_.

But Bruce just stands there with an intense expression on his face and such a feeling of want over the bond that Jason has to open his mouth, pant a little bit. It's--god, spars always make Jason horny, but Bruce doesn't do that. He just goes and goes until he decides to stop. 

And he hasn't said stop yet, so Jason does his best to not pay attention to the fact that his dick is hard as he goes in low for a gut shot. Bruce isn't playing around now; he moves almost inhumanly fast--it's clear how much he's been holding back, suddenly--grabbing Jason's wrists. 

Oh God, Bruce pushes Jason back, half-carries and half lets Jason take backwards steps on his own, until Jason's pressed against the mirror that's next to the free weights. It's floor-to-ceiling, and the shock of it so cold against Jason's heat makes his eyes go wide. 

Bruce just leans down, down, until their faces are close, kissably close. 

Jason's dick is insistent and throbby and probably leaking precome everywhere. Bruce has never--never touched him like this before, never anything close, not with that fire in his eyes, the same expression from the showers where Bruce watches Jason jack off. From when Bruce jacks himself off too. 

The panting now is more from desire than physical exhaustion. Jason feels like he's on fire all over, heat and raw _want_ running rampant all over his body. All he can do is stare, though, unable to look away from Bruce, not wanting to get away. 

Then Bruce kisses Jason, and the feeling of the bond singing is almost more overwhelming than the pressure of Bruce's lips against his. Jason moans against Bruce's lips, arching his body away from the mirror, towards Bruce, but Bruce is so damn--Jason jumps and wraps both legs around Bruce's natural waist, and okay, he can't really get at Bruce's cock this way but he can hump Bruce's abs and feel that heat and pleasure and Bruce. 

Jason's entire world is Bruce, his breath between kisses, the low hum in his throat, the way he's shifting his grip on Jason's wrists, letting Jason wrap his arms around Bruce's neck. 

Bruce's hands go down to Jason's ass, and Jason almost comes right there, from the warm press through the very, very breathable fabric of the running shorts. 

"Jason," Bruce says against Jason's cheek, his voice a low growl. 

It hurts when Jason squeezes his eyes shut, but he doesn't give a fuck. He just keeps right on humping Bruce's abs, groaning, barely even able to kiss anymore and just. 

Bruce loves this. Bruce loves Jason's desperation. Bruce loves the way Jason looks, even with the developing black eye. So flushed and his lips are very wet--Bruce licks them, shifts his hands, squeezes. 

Jason groans. He wants--he can feel Bruce's cock straining against his briefs. Jason doesn't wear underwear for training, and not even the jock most of the time. He isn't today.

Bruce never goes without. 

And oh God, that's the feel of Bruce's cock throbbing as he realizes that Jason's completely naked beneath the shorts. That's the feeling of Bruce's fingers pressing into Jason's crack, teasing, so teasing and big. 

"Please," Jason says, all but sobbing. All of it is so overwhelming, so--so. He's going to lose his mind if sex is like this every time.

Bruce bites Jason's earlobe. "Tell me, Jason." 

"Fuck me," Jason begs, arching up as high as he can, rubbing his hard cock on Bruce's pecs. 

For an answer, Bruce unwraps Jason's hands from around his neck and places them around his chest, just under his arms. Even the feel of the heat from his armpits is hot, moist, pressing the tops of his arms. 

Then he cups his hands on the outside of Jason's legs, holding him up, and Jason knows what Bruce wants. Knows exactly what he wants, and unwraps his legs, letting Bruce settle Jason's legs down further, down, until Jason's sack is pressed against Bruce's cock through the unarmored jock and oh God, oh God, and he's so--so. Hard. So hot, throbbing, Jason can feel the throbbing all through his body, the way that the heat and pressure from his own cock makes the pleasure burn hot and fast through Bruce's mind.

All at once, Bruce presses Jason harder against the mirror, grinds against him, hands on Jason's ass and face looking down at Jason's. Jason squeezes his eyes closed without thinking, burying his face against Bruce's collarbones and moaning as the pleasure in his mind outpaces the pleasure in his body. 

Too much, he thinks, shaking, halfway unwrapping his legs, but Bruce is holding him there, grinding. 

Groaning. Shaking. Hot and throbbing and Jason's body, so lithe, so perfect, Jason's pleasure, Bruce's. Everything. 

He can't tell what thought or feeling belongs to who; it feels like he comes, feels like he completely loses it and screams and digs his hands into Bruce's ass but--no, that's Bruce, digging in and growling and moaning in a way that sounds almost painful. 

Bruce. Coming. Just from. From. Jason pants helplessly, rubs himself against Bruce, but Bruce pulls away, pulls--no. Not all the way. Just. Carries Jason over to the bench, straddles the bench, and lowers Jason until Jason is seated there.

Bruce's hands shake when he pulls them away. 

Jason feels like he's shaking on the inside, so--so needy and so much pleasure and he's going to die, he's really going to die, if he can't. If he can't get off. "Please," he whispers, squirming, already laying back along the length of the bench. 

Lucky for Jason, Bruce doesn't hesitate. Doesn't--oh god, his hands are inside Jason's shorts, fingers slick with spit and pressing in, pressing in. Jason reaches down and cups his hand over his dick protectively, but Bruce is already nosing Jason's hand away, mouthing the shaft through the running shorts. It's nice fabric, soft, and wet Jesus that's Bruce just. Scraping his teeth so lightly.

And. In. Pressing. In. 

Jason comes screaming, hands gripping the edges of the bench, eyes shut tight.

He loses a little time. Bruce has baby wipes and is wiping his finger clean. He looks so--Jason's cock throbs, wants him to know that that orgasm? Totally not a one-time thing. He’s ready to go again whenever Bruce wants. 

Trying to talk doesn't really work, so Jason just. Lays there. 

After maybe a couple minutes, Bruce asks, "Do you want--"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jason asks, and his voice is only a little scratchy.

Bruce's smile is tiny, but not quite tight. "Come to bed." 

If not for the fact that Jason can feel Bruce's desire to keep going, to make Jason come enough times that he just fucking passes out for real or begs Bruce to stop or something, Jason might be worried, might think moving would break the spell.

But the desire is there, wrapped all around Jason like a heated blanket. Jason manages to push himself into sitting up, and lets Bruce steady him a little as he stands. 

Bruce smiles. 

It's the first real, unrestrained smile Jason's ever seen from him. 

And he finally gets to find out: there is no elevator, since those require a permit, but Bruce is perfectly willing to carry Jason up the stairs.


End file.
